


Any Obstacle, Together

by SuiCausa



Series: Iron Bull's Rules [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Established OT3, Fluff and Fluff, Light BDSM, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masterbation, OT3, Thedas Phone Sex, Trespasser DLC spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuiCausa/pseuds/SuiCausa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set Post-Trespasser, so SPOILER WARNING, etc.</p><p>Circumstances change, unforeseen challenges arise, but Lavellan knows that above all, life will go on a little easier with those you love at your side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Obstacle, Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is my way of dealing with the many feels that Trespasser has left me. I had to stop and write what is chronologically the last of my OT3 series (until DA4 I suppose?), so that I can accept my new head canons and come to peace with them. Trespasser was a wild ride, my brain is still a mess, so I apologize for the likely numerous errors in this because I am incapable of editing right now! /o/ Now I will comfortably resume work on Pretty Painted Masks! (And fanboy excessively over all of my feels like an idiot.)
> 
> OBVIOUSLY, BUT IN CASE ITS NOT TAGGED AND CLEAR ENOUGH: SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS etc.

“Dorian, you there?” Iron Bull grunted, tapping at the amulet dangling from his neck with a braided leather cord. “Shit, I can never tell when this thing’s working.” He growled. His concentration was far more frayed than usual, probably due to the elf he was balls deep in, the needy whines coming from the bound man driving the qunari wild.

“Kaffas--” Dorian’s voice cut in, a little loud and echo-y at first until Lavellan managed to crack open an eye and focus enough magic to tweak the communication crystal. “You _know_ I’m with the Lucerni right now, you beast?” Dorian’s voice was hushed and quiet, obviously speaking into his own crystal quietly to not attract attention.

“Oh? Don’t want to chat? Because I really thought you might like to _hear_ how we’ve been doing.” Iron Bull chuckled before he snapped his hips forward, angling the thrust just the right way that Lavellan let out a keening cry, stuttering out pleas as the qunari began a slow, powerful pace.

“ _Vishante kaffas_.” Dorian made a little noise in the back of his throat, and all at once you could tell he was moving -- the rap of his hard bottomed, no doubt entirely too fashionable boots against tile echoing as he opened and closed multiple doors. “I take it his return to Wycome went smoothly?” Dorian asked as he moved, perhaps to try and keep his mind too far out of the gutter until he was some place private.

“ _Yes._ ” Lavellan panted, his voice ragged and desperate as he rocked his slender body back against Iron Bull’s. “ _Dorian._ ” He whimpered pitifully afterwards, clearly unable to concentrate on anything for long. “I _miss_ you.”

“Of course you do, Amatus. You’d be mad not to.” Dorian clicked his tongue with a chuckle, the final close of a door signaling he had arrived in his private chambers, the rustling of cloth indicating he was quickly preparing to properly enjoy their conversation. “Tell me, lovely. What do you want to do to me when you see me?” His voice was heated, a low and sensual purr that pushed Lavellan harder into his headspace.

“I want to _feel_ you.” Lavellan moaned, Iron Bull lowering his body over the elf’s, chest to chest with the amulet caught between them as he suckled and kissed along Lavellan’s neck. “With my hand, my lips, my tongue..” The elf had improved on his dirty talk out of necessity, their heated little crystal-conversations becoming nearly an art form now. “I want to feel you in the back of my throat--ahn!”

Lavellan let out a little cry as Iron Bull pinned him harder, thick fingers sliding across his lips and pressing into his mouth with little ceremony, rubbing the calloused pads of his fingertips across Lavellan’s tongue. The qunari adjusted the amulet so it rested in the hollow of Lavellan’s throat, picking up every delectable noise as the elf suckled sloppily his mouthful as he was repeatedly shoved into the mattress by each of Iron Bull’s thrusts.

“Hear that, Kadan?” Iron Bull hissed into the delicate line of Lavellan’s collar bone, so close to the crystal. “That mouth feels so good, the way it wraps around your cock, doesn’t it?” Dorian let out a breathy little moan, clearly the conversation having a very audible effect as the ‘vint unlaced his trousers to free himself from belts and buckles. He wasted no time wrapping a ringed, manicured hand around his length and stroking it eagerly.

“Such a messy little thing, making such wet little noises.” Dorian groaned, Lavellan all the more eager as he sucked Iron Bull’s fingers, letting the qunari curl them down the back of his throat, eyes fluttered shut as he floated. “Is he tied up?” Dorian whispered, clearly beginning to paint himself a mental picture.

“Yeah, pretty red rope, hand behind him, arm free. Got his dick all wrapped up nice and tight, he isn’t getting anywhere until we let him. How much time do you have?"

Dorian swore, an elegant curse in Tevene that sounded more natural to him than ever, the man’s common not getting quite as much use as it had in the south. Not that it mattered, Iron Bull was already fluent and Lavellan was learning fast. They both knew that it would be necessary with what was to come. "Not long, I'm afraid." Dorian panted, "We will have to make up for an easy night later."

"Yeah." Iron Bull grunted, pressing his fingers harder along Lavellan's tongue to earn some louder, wetter noises for Dorian's benefit. "Gonna be good, Kadan, having you here. Getting you under me again, been too damn long." He grunted while abusing Lavellan's ear with teeth and tongue, the elf practically trembling under the attention. "You get the gift I sent ya?"

"Kaffas, yes--" Dorian choked, sounding needier than ever. "I wore it half a day before I was nearly embarrassing myself. It's _huge_."

"Smaller than me, you just need more practice." Iron Bull chuckled. Lavellan let out a little keen, because he'd been sent a copy of the same toy while he'd been away. A thick glass plug that was shaped specifically to be comfortable and stimulating while worn throughout the day. He'd gotten rather attached to the wretched thing, when alone at night, missing his lovers with nothing but the comforting warmth of their voices to keep him company.

As Iron Bull's hands slid down to Lavellan's hips and gripped them tightly, using the force to begin to properly fuck into his lover, the sounds from Lavellan grew more and more desperate, his mouth no longer muffled by fingers.

"Gonna pin you between us, Dorian. Gonna plough into you just like _this,"_ Lavellan wailed as Iron Bull ground deep, rolling his hips to grind against the elf's prostate. "While our sexy little elf is under you, spread wide on your cock. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll both feel it."

Dorian's breathing was absolutely wretched as he stroked himself faster, desperately whimpering his agreement to Iron Bull's increasingly filthy ideas. His hand was slick with his own precum now, _so_ damn close.

Lavellan was equally distraught, his cries shaky, desperate little things as Iron Bull whispered sweet praises. Dorian could tell when the man removed the tight silk around Lavellan's cock, how the elf immediately stuttered across all his cries, how he began to make desperate little mewling noises as he crashed towards his finish. When the elf screamed, Iron Bull roared soon afterwards, Dorian could _feel_ their voices tight in his chest making his heart ache at the distance between them.

When Dorian's name came out in desperate, needy pants from both Lavellan and Iron Bull, the Magister was undone. He let out a bit off keen before cursing in Tevene, praising Lavellan, calling him sweet names as Iron Bull did the same, the three of them calming each other from their orgasms with soft, soothing words.

Dorian barely managed to wipe away the mess he made, still glowing with warmth as he listened to the soothing hum from his lovers, before there was a loud rap on the door. “Magister Pavus! You must come at once!” The words echoed through the amulet, Lavellan letting out a miserable little whine.

“Fasta Vass!” Dorian swore, muttering a few choice words. “It’d better be _terribly_ urgent, I’m in the middle of--” The sound of a door swinging open, Dorian’s words promptly cut off. “ _Kaffas._ ” Dorian hissed, “Alright, I’m coming.”

The sounds from Dorian’s side of the crystal were muted then, the Magister no doubt silencing it as he dealt with the sudden disruption. Lavellan and Iron Bull gave each other curious looks, though Iron Bull made no move to deactivate the amulet. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Kadan.” He said instead.

It was a gentle process, carefully undoing each knot that restrained Lavellan, big hands rubbing away aches with total devotion. Once Iron Bull had wiped them down with a wash cloth, he spent some time rubbing sweet smelling lotion into Lavellan’s skin, it having a wonderful soothing effect on travel worn muscles. Gifts from Tevinter were frequent and definitely enjoyable.

He finished his massage at Lavellan’s arm, ever so careful around the blunt end as he applied the lotion. It helped with chafing, the harness the elf usually wore around it sometimes leaving marks and pains after extended use. “Doing okay today, Kadan?” Iron Bull asked quietly.

It was still a thoughtful topic for the elf, his handicap. The first few months nothing but constant rage and despair, anger every time he was unable to do something he wanted, frustration and fury that it had been taken from him. His lovers had borne the brunt of it, talking him down through his anger and his fury, calming him when overwhelmed with despair.

He wasn’t broken. He was still whole, still capable. The first time a group of bandits had tried to run his horse off the road outside of Wycome, he’d forcefully rediscovered he didn’t need both hands to be as lethal as ever.

It’d started simple, a basic harness to attach his spirit sword hilt to his arm. It’d been gritty but effective. Iron Bull had happily began to spar with Lavellan, helping the elf adjust to the difference. Dorian had covered his face with his palm the first time he’d seen it, sighing heavily. _Terribly unfashionable. We will simply have to do better._ They had, of course.

“It’s fine, the new harness does better. On the road I kept waking up feeling like my fist was clenched so tight my bones were breaking, but it’s better now.”

Iron Bull cupped his face in a big hand, pressing a warm kiss to Lavellan’s lips that took all the tension right out of him. “You won’t be spending much time alone any more, on the road or off. It’ll help.” He said softly against the tattoos of Lavellan’s forehead, making the elf smile.

“You’re right, of course.”

Wycome was his home now. With the Inquisition disbanded, he’d followed through on Istimaethoriel’s offer and visited. What he saw was heartening: Progress. Change. Thanks to Varric, Viscount Istimaethoriel was having great success navigating the political scene of the Free Marches -- Kirkwall and Wycome were survivors, home to very influential people.

Sera had arrived on the scene shortly after, Widdle -- no, _Dagna_ , in tow. Time to give back to the people who had gave everything, the Red Jenny’s presence in Wycome enough to keep any human noble uncomfortable with the elves in the area in check.

Sera had taken one look at Lavellan’s harness and rolled her eyes. “Looks great, yeah? But what’s just a sword? Needs _handy._ ” She’d laughed at her own pun then, to which Lavellan rolled his eyes and snorted. He’d grown a thick skin for puns. He lived with Iron Bull, after all. “Something ‘aint no one else got.”

She’d looked at Dagna, Dagna had looked at her. It was _terrifying._ “Grapple Hooks!” They exclaimed in perfect sync, and Lavellan let out a heavy sigh.

Okay. So the grappling hook was _amazing._ He could have used one scaling ledges and cliffs while chasing down Corypheus, that was for sure. Dorian panicked, said Lavellan was going to ‘break his fool neck shooting up to rooftops like that.’

Iron Bull looked at with obvious envy. Something powerful enough to haul a light elven body was easy, a _qunari_ body on the other hand, was still in the works. Dagna had a workshop in Wycome now. She was making progress.

“Which one do you want?” Iron Bull asked, getting up to pull open the wardrobe where Lavellan’s _upgrades_ were stored. Sera was positive that calling them upgrades was important.

Not wearing anything was always an option, even naked and relaxed he no longer felt self conscious as he had once before. When Lavellan had first refused to take off the long sleeve shirt tied at his arm shortly after his hand’s removal, Iron Bull and Dorian both had descended upon him, making it very clear that there was _nothing_ wrong.

Lavellan smiled at Bull, pointing to the newest one. “The gloves for it too, please.” He said as Iron Bull pulled it off the rack. “I want to give you a massage.”

It’d been four months of nonstop work, and sending the Chargers out for increasingly strange requisitions, before Dagna had produced the creation that Iron Bull helped Lavellan harness to his bicep and elbow. With a glove, it almost _looked_ like a hand, something that helped the awkwardness others around him often felt. Dorian had sent dozens of books, formulas and artifacts from Tevinter to help Dagna create a silverite hand that he could _control_ with just the smallest twitches of magic.

Lavellan got a lot of use out of it, and with a smooth leather glove it felt pleasant to be touched by. Iron Bull loved the way it felt, strong metal providing a strong grip, which had proven incredibly useful for massages.

Once Lavellan was properly equipped the qunari picked the amulet off his own neck and looped it over Lavellan’s before he quickly flopped onto the bed on his stomach, still gloriously naked as he propped his head up with a cushion. Lavellan climbed onto his back shortly thereafter, taking his turn dribbling Dorian’s oil over Iron Bull’s back.

He hummed as he rubbed large slabs of muscles into puddy, Iron Bull groaning his delight. “Shit yeah, been a while, Kadan.”

Lavellan dipped his head while he slid his intact hand across scarred skin, feeling the textures eagerly with both fingers and mouth. “How did that job near the Imperium border go?” Lavellan asked softly as he worked.

“Good.” Iron Bull grunted, his voice rough and gravelly as he relaxed into the massage. “Lots of intel. Caught some Qunari and sent everything we found to Dorian while we were at it.”

Lavellan tutted as he squeezed the back of Iron Bull’s neck with his stronger mechanical grip, leaving the qunari practically purring with pleasure. “Careful with the ones coming up from the Free Marches. Don’t want any word to get back about outside involvement.”

“Got it covered Boss, made it look like ‘vints got em, Dalish made it clear that...elven archery did it.”

“Right. Good.” Lavellan laughed. He let out a little sigh as he squirmed on Iron Bull’s back, feeling the slick wetness smearing across his ass and balls as Iron Bull’s previous activities seeped. “Should have plugged me till Dorian got back.” Lavellan said with a little grin, to which Iron Bull groaned.

“Well I _thought_ it sounded like he might get wrapped up in something. Last time we chatted...things are really starting to heat up there, Kadan.”

“I know.” Lavellan said softly, before he smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of Iron Bull’s scalp. “We’ll be able to help him soon, I promise.”

“Yeah.” Iron Bull said, sounding so completely _pleased_ by it that Lavellan’s chest felt warm and fuzzy. “Got a lot of work to do, but we’re good at that.”

“We are.” Lavellan practically purred.

“Good at what, exactly?” Dorian’s voice echoed from the crystal, and Lavellan very nearly didn’t jump. Someday he’d be used to the surprise.

“ _Dorian._ ” He hadn’t meant the word to come out like a moan, but it did. Iron Bull snickered.

“Oh, don’t give me _that_ voice, I know very well you were talking about something completely--” Dorian paused, a clattering sound as jewelery fell into it’s place on his vanity no doubt, the sound of him unzipping boots following soon after. The man was undressing. “Innocent.” He finished after a moment.

“Boss needed to talk to you about stuff.” Iron Bull grunted, casually reaching behind him to grab Lavellan’s thigh, using that grip to maneuver the elf as he rolled onto his back. It ended the massage so he could talk clearly to the amulet instead of having his voice muffled by a pillow, though let Lavellan spread his thighs and relax comfortably atop Iron Bull’s groin.

“Oh? Boss, is it? Following business so soon after pleasure is highly frowned upon in Tevinter, you know?”

“I’ll try to mix the two.” Lavellan laughed, earning a pleased sound from Dorian. “I need you to come to Kirkwall a month from now.”

“I certainly would like some pleasure mixed amply while I’m there.” Dorian chuckled, the sound of rustling fabric travelling through the crystal as he undressed. “And what role will I be playing there?”

“Nefarious Magister.”

“Ah! My favorite!”

“It’s...important. Varric will have, uh...potential allies.” Lavellan smoothed his hand across Iron Bull’s chest as he spoke, smiling at the qunari when the man gave him a grin. “We just have to convince them.”

“You’re _good_ at convincing people.” Dorian remarked, before he paused. “Wait. It’s time? You’re ready?”

Lavellan didn’t respond, looking thoughtfully at Iron Bull instead. “What happened that you were called away?”

Dorian paused for a moment, Lavellan quite sure his question was going to be brushed off, however the man eventually sighed. They had to trust each other not to hide things, it was a big part of making the distance between them work. “We had to do an extraction earlier this week to remove some of our undercover’s from a Magister’s home.”

He meant agents posing as slaves in target’s homes. It had been no small success for the Lucerni to completely dismantle a slave ring the Chargers had _disrupted_ as a side-quest on one of their jobs. Well reputed, many Magisters did not think twice of slaves offered to them under the name of this group. The Lucerni used that to spread eyes and ears throughout the Magisterium.

“With the qunari threat growing stronger every day, some of my fellow Magister’s feel that the need for _power_ is growing stronger. It’s a balancing act, what we’re doing. However we received reports that a certain Magister’s home was quickly becoming a slaughter house. We had to extract our agent quickly, and what we found…” Dorian trailed off, sounding exhausted. “There’s snakes, in Tevinter.” When Iron Bull snorted, Dorian gave a hollow laugh. “Shocking, I know. On their own they are no threat, but we’ve stumbled across a writhing _pit_ of them and how to deal with it is not an easy agreement to come to.” Lavellan desperately wanted to reach out across the distance to wrap the man in his arms and bury his face in his hair.

“The good news is, our agent was brought back safe with a great deal of information. I’m afraid this particular Magister has _lost his head_ over the situation, though. We’re dealing with it.”

“Be careful, Dorian.” Iron Bull said softly, a large finger touching the amulet dangling on Lavellan’s chest, as if he could comfort his lover through touching it. “Just hang tight a little longer, and you’ll have backup.”

Dorian hummed before he abruptly stopped. “What?”

Lavellan decided to speak then, returning to Dorian’s previous inquiry. “I need you to find us some real-estate. I’m looking for a change of scenery.”

“Our Villa in Marothius not…?”

“Bigger.”

“Define--”

“I’m bringing a lot of...friends. And we’re going to be making a lot of new ones.”

“Lavellan, I know what you’re thinking, but you have to understand the border is _crawling_ with Imperium soldiers, it’s barely safe to get _you,_ nevermind that ridiculous qunari you’re no doubt wrapped around and his merry band of misfits--” Dorian was doing the calculations, growing more anxious as he began to list off names of suspected _friends_. “--an _army_ , Lavellan I can’t--”

“Dorian.” Lavellan said softly, amusement in his voice. “I just asked for real estate. Let me worry about the rest, I just need you to get me some of that very _fashionable_ real estate you discovered earlier this year.”

The Magister seemed to consider this, humming to himself as he began to warm to the idea. “You have something up your sleeve that I don’t know about.” He finally said, absolute glee in his voice. “This is _exciting._ I promise to have news by the time I reach Kirkwall.”

“Excellent.” Lavellan said, the Iron Bull snorting at the devious tone Lavellan’s voice took. “I’ll have everything ready by the time we reach Kirkwall. It’s time we --” _Rise from the ashes_ was an Inquisition thing. This was no longer the Inquisition, and Lavellan grinned. “Sunk a little deeper into the shadows. No more being expected. I intend to drop us so hard off the map even a _god_ can’t sniff us out.”

Dorian chuckled as Iron Bull hummed and Lavellan felt the pride rising up his spine. Nearly a year of work coming to culmination, bringing Dorian within easy reach once more was only icing on the cake that would be their reward.

“I’ll have another gift to bring to Kirkwall, I think.” Dorian said suddenly, as if he just remembered.

“The upgrade is done?” Iron Bull blurted out in surprise, to which he immediately winced as Lavellan perked up interestedly and Dorian let out an angry hiss.

“Fasta Vass, _really_ Bull? That was _my_ surprise!”

“Yeah but, Dagna just sent you the shit you needed like a month ago? I thought it’d take longer for something like _that._ ”

“It can’t be completed until I have Lavellan with me, so we will have to do the finishing touches in Kirkwall. Otherwise, yes. It’s done.”

“You’re...upgrading me again?” Lavellan asked curiously, looking at his metal hand and it’s leather glove. “I’m okay Dorian, you’ve seen my newest one last time I was in Minra--”

“This is _superior_ in every way. Trust me, you’ll understand when you see it, Amatus.”Lavellan let out a little noise of disappointment, just the barest whimper, which seemed to strike a chord because Dorian’s dedication to the _surprise_ idea went out the window. “It’s _magic_ , Amatus.” He said excitedly. His voice grew stronger and louder, Lavellan knowing that it meant the Magister had brought the amulet to his mouth with his hand.

“You’re going to get a creepy glowing hand that’ll freak out the neighbors, but look hot as hell when you finger Dorian--”

“It’s not going to _glow_ you brute!” Dorian interrupted, not allowing the qunari’s line of thought to derail him. “Remember the work we did three years ago to help Wycome cure their plague?”

“Yes.” Lavellan confirmed, grinning when Iron Bull’s hands settled on his hips, the qunari clearly less interested in the details of a magic hand, and more on enacting the little word picture he’d been interrupted out of.

“Dagna made a massive breakthrough out of some of the research I sent her. There’s little blueprints in your blood, that tell your body how to make parts. We worked out a way to _shape_ magic to fit those blueprints, more specifically to make you a hand that’s made out of _you_.”

“I know you’re trying to dumb this shit down for the southern barbarians we are,” Iron Bull grunted as he rubbed massive into the handful of Lavellan’s ass he was gripping. “But that shit just sounds creepy.”

Lavellan chuckled at Dorian’s frustrated grumbling. “It’ll make more sense to me when I see it, Dorian. But...I can already control my newest one. Dagna’s been tuning it regularly, I don’t really think I need another upgrade.”

“You’ll be able to feel.” Dorian blurted out, the clear source of his excitement finally out. “ _Feel._ You’ll touch and you’ll feel and you’ll have perfect control. No harness, no extra weight messing your balance. No hideous leather straps or gloves. All we’ll need is some of your blood and--”

“Do you hear that?” Lavellan interrupted, raising an eyebrow at Iron Bull. “He’s spent too long in Tevinter. He’s trying to blood-magic me a new hand already!”

“It’s not blood magic, you wicked elf!” Dorian protested, the echos of Lavellan and Iron Bull’s laughter driving him mad with the need to wring their necks that he could not sate. “It’s just so the blueprints are _yours_ as much as the magic itself.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” Lavellan said softly, and the warmth in his voice was enough to completely silence Dorian’s protesting. “I can’t wait to see _you._ ”

Dorian let out a soft little noise, revealing loneliness that made Iron Bull’s face soften as he squeezed Lavellan a little tighter to compensate. “A month should go by quickly, I hope.” Dorian’s voice was like warm honey and Lavellan smiled as he lowered himself to wrap his good arm around Iron Bull’s neck, letting the metal one rest comfortably at his side.

“The three of us back in the same Country? With Lavellan’s new crew?” Iron Bull snorted, his amusement audible. “There’s nothing we can’t do.”

As they chatted into the night, Lavellan comfortably curled across Iron Bull’s chest, lulled by the sounds of his lover’s voices, he couldn’t help but smile.

He couldn’t be prepared for everything as much as he was trying, he couldn’t predict what the future would bring or what the future consequences of his actions might be. But with his lovers, his _friends_ bound so tightly together at his side, he knew they would be able to challenge even the gods themselves.


End file.
